


Heartless

by Porn Writing Platypus (Malkontent)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Bestiality, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Breathplay, Character Death, Community: bloodyvalentine, F/M, Fantasy, Other, Rape, Revenge, Rough Sex, Snuff, Torture, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malkontent/pseuds/Porn%20Writing%20Platypus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warwick gets revenge on his nemesis Soraka for evading his clutches years before. This was originally concieved for Porn Battle XIV for the prompt "Warwick/Soraka, heartless, hunt", but I didn't finish in time, so I instead used the idea for the Two-of-a-Kind Challenge on the BloodyValentine community at Dreamwidth. The kink prompt there was "Furry/Lycanthropy — Blood Kink". The following story mashes all of those things into one story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartless

It was not the same clearing. It was not even the same forest; but it was close enough. Close enough to lend a delicious sense of irony to the occasion that made Warwick’s mouth begin to water in anticipation of what was to come.

For years, he had hunted her, stalking through bush and briar, learning her habits, gauging her weaknesses. Ever since the day she first eluded him. Ever since her escape had caused him to curse himself with this monstrous blessing. For want of her heart he had become a beast, and now the beast would return to claim its prize.

He had fought her on the Fields of Justice since then, of course. There he played the dumb beast, feigning a senseless bloodlust to weaken her guard and expose her secrets. He had witnessed her healing powers; seen with his own eyes as she rose up from blows that would have killed a warrior ten times her size. He had seen her call down stars from the sky to smite her foes. But those were games. This was real. This was his chance.

Soraka bathed in a clear blue spring in the small clearing, the steaming water gently caressing her naked purple skin. Her stark white hair splayed out around her as she luxuriated. Rumpled clothing and her crescent moon staff lay on the banks of the spring nearby.

Warwick waited patiently. He had waited years for this day. He could wait forever if need be.

Finally she emerged from the warm spring. Wisps of steam clung to her skin.

With his fangs and rage bared, Warwick pounced from the treeline, howling his warcry to the setting sun. She turned at the sound, instinctively reaching down for her staff. With a wave she brought it up, and a single flaming star fell from the sky, glancing off Warwick’s side, but it was far too little and far too late. Ignoring the singed fur, he pounced. Hard claws dug into her arms, slicing easily through soft flesh like a blade through silk. She dropped her staff with a shriek. In the next instant she was on her back and he was on top of her.

With one fur-covered hand he grasped her throat, shoving her into the dirt. She gasped for air, desperately clawing at him with her small fingers to no avail. 

He snarled and picked up her staff, throwing it into the woods. He then turned his attention back to his prey. His grip loosened very slightly, allowing her a labored breath. He could break her neck with barely more than a flex of his wrist if he chose, but he wouldn’t. Not yet.

As she struggled in his grasp he saw the red liquid oozing down her arms, fresh and hot, its coppery scent intoxicating to him. The red stain spread over her skin, flowing over the dark markings that covered her body. He brought his talons to his mouth and greedily licked at them, tasting the sweet nectar on his hands.

“Mmmmm”, he said with a wolfish grin, “I’ve never tasted the blood of an immortal before. But oh, that’s right, you’re not immortal anymore... are you, bitch?”

He tightened his grip again and Soraka’s struggle began anew, her body thrashing and squirming beneath him. His body straddled hers, and he could feel her warm flesh rubbing against his phallus each time her goat legs kicked uselessly behind him.

He held her throat until her spasms began to die down and he could see the consciousness fading from her eyes. Only then did he slacken his grip. She coughed hoarsely, trying to force air back into her lungs.

“I...” she began, but could not help coughing, “I tried to... help you...”

“The only way you could have helped me was by dying.”

Warwick laughed humorlessly, deep in his throat.

“Don’t worry, you’ll still get your chance. Let’s make this fun.”

He leaned into her, drawing his long, wet tongue along the length of her arm, reveling in the sweet taste of her warm blood. Soraka grimaced. He noticed that her abilities were already beginning to heal the cuts he had inflicted on her. He would have to remedy that.

One claw stabbed brutally into her shoulder, forcing her to cry out once more. With a sickening tear he dragged it downward, across her collarbone to her breast, ripping through flesh with barely any resistance. Finally, he tore downward, slicing her dark nipple in half as she screamed and thrashed beneath his weight.

Dark, syrupy blood poured out of the wound, coating them both. Warwick howled again, reveling in the pain of his sworn enemy. The sight of her spreading ichor aroused deep animal urges inside of him and he lifted her bodily off the ground, flipping her over onto her hands and knees. Crimson rivulets dripped from her chest onto the green grass as he shoved her head down and mounted her from behind, just as a wolf would mount its bitch.

“No!” she screamed as he pushed his hard shaft against her buttocks, but his strength and the pain in her chest overwhelmed her, and she could do nothing but clutch at the grass as he maneuvered her.

His aim was clumsy, but after a few tries he found her waiting hole. It was still wet from the spring water, and despite its tightness he slid into her easily enough, his breath coming in shallow pants. Soraka felt something tear as he entered her, but it was small and far away, subsumed by the terrible pain already coursing through her body.

Under the still rising moon he rutted against her, thrusting his blood-slicked shaft into her body. Tears spilled down her cheeks, the salty tang of them mixing with the sour, metallic taste already on her lips.

With a final roar she felt him climax. He shoved deep inside of her, his seed pouring out in waves against her womb. He finally let go of her and she fell to the ground, defeated, humiliated, unable to even stand. In the darkness of the waning moon her blood was as black as the night, covering her like tar.

Warwick laughed again, semen still dripping from his wilting cock.

“Please...” she whispered, her eyes pleading, “Please stop...”

“Not before I get what I came for so many years ago,” he said.

“Playtime is over. This ends... now.”

His claws plunged into her chest. Her ribs shattered like twigs and she felt his hand moving inside of her. She screamed, but quickly her throat filled with blood and drowned her shout into a wet gurgling. A moment later he drew his talons back out, covered in gore and grasping her still-beating heart.

She stared at it, wide-eyed, but only for a few seconds. As it stopped it’s rhythmic thumping her eyes glossed over and her head fell back, landing on the soft grass. She lay still.

Warwick chuckled as he stood over her, still clutching her heart.

“I appreciate your assistance.”


End file.
